The Year Before He Left
by HowdeeCoyote
Summary: The year before he left was spent in a damp, cold prison. The year before he left, his eyes were sealed. The year before he left, his body was wrapped in a straitjacket. The year before he left, he understood love, and drowned in its embrace. SasuSaku
1. Chapter 1: Damp Earth

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.**

Please enjoy, share, and leave a review when you are finished! Thank you for your support.

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Damp Earth**

* * *

It smelled of damp earth. It smelled of blood, and sweat, and tears—it smelled of new beginnings and reestablished ties and Sakura didn't think she'd ever inhaled anything quite so…fragrant. Not in all of her life.

Her hands bloomed rehabilitation. Pink brows dipped low as flesh mended, capillaries healed, and the arteries that had been severed into mangled clumps cauterized.

The smell of blood had never been nauseating to her. Sakura was a medic, after all. She had performed autopsies on cadavers and surgery on the living. Sasuke and Naruto had been stuck in the in-between for a while, teetering around limbo as their detached arms seeped red fluid. There truly was a line between "almost dead" and "almost alive", and the boys had been crossing sides rapidly.

"Thanks, Sakura-chan!" Naruto says now. His voice is guttural, seeping from the back of his throat as if it was dry and he'd been talking too much. Knowing him, he had been. _Baka_ , _don't keep talking._

"Sakura, I…"

This is Sasuke.

Sasuke who defected, Sasuke who hated, Sasuke who threatened and had raised hand to her. She hasn't heard this sound in a very long time—it sounds brittle and husky and as much as Sakura wants to hear what he has to say, she has other important things to take care of. He's too distracting, too devastatingly beautiful.

"Don't. I need to concentrate."

Sasuke feels pure oxygen on his _bones_. His skin vibrates with adrenalin, his heart is hammering against the inside of his chest excruciatingly and _none of it matters_ because he's so very sorry. He's never felt so unacceptable in all of his life.

Sakura's chakra heals him and he watches. It feels like mint and it draws away all of the physical hurt. He wonders if this woman could alleviate the ache in his soul if she reached just a little bit deeper. Her dusty rose strands curtain her face well, hiding the lavender diamond that's centered on her forehead. His eyes lower. He needs to rid himself of this hurt—it's a pain only he can ease.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She asks. Though her words are steady, her body is not. She trembles with anger or with sadness or…some other emotion Sasuke has never cared to see etched on her face. Perhaps that's why she kept it hidden. "…for what?"

The wind blows gently around them, and time stands motionless. Where should he begin? He could spend days counting off his misdeeds, starting with the night he abandoned her on that cold, stone bench. But, Sasuke knows that he hasn't done _anything_ right in a long time, and he's sorry for _all of it._ Although she refused to meet his face, he stares directly into hers.

Naruto and Sakura are saviors, and he's just a slain enemy. He has lost. "…for everything that I've done."

This time she does not sound like an irritated doctor. Sniffles pepper the air, _hick, hick, hick_ and Sasuke is comforted by them. She's the only one that has shed her tears for him. _They will be the last._

"You'd better damn well be… _Shaanaroo_." Naruto and Sasuke smile at her, but she cannot see, because saltine tears flow from her eyelids like waterfalls of mixed emotion. "You are so much trouble," she weeps. " _Baka…_ "

Kakashi watches.

He's always watches—like a scarecrow in a cornfield as a grackle swoops in. His three cornstalks are back, now—damaged and tattered, bruised and swollen, but they're alive _._ Habitually he covers his left eye, letting his eyebrows rise and his lashes crinkle with joy because _it's ove_ r. Because…

"They've finally returned."

Sakura watches as her boys—her men—stand. It should be impossible, what with all of the ruptured organs and fatal trauma. But they rise nevertheless and join hands in unity. They set their people free.

Not far off, her friends and peers are awakening. They unravel from their cocoons and their happy nightmares and rejoice in the daylight, because Sasuke and Naruto have done it. Because we've won; the sun had never looked so bright with the promise of a new day.

The men start to fall back and Sakura catches them. In this moment, as they lean on her for support, she wonders if being behind was really such a bad place after all. She is their backup and Sakura knows that this will always be her place _forever and for always._ "You both need a hospital. Stop moving around so much."

"We don't need that, Sakura-chan; you're a walking clinic aren't ya? You healed every injured ninja across the five nations! Don't put me in that awful place…"

Kurama rises from the rubble of boulders, having been released by Sasuke. After greeting his placeholder in the strange way they do—not with a bow of respect, but by a brush of knuckles—he sweeps out his massive head and looks to the horizon. "It's better to be in a hospital than a morgue, Naruto."

How many of their friends have lost their lives? How many funerals and gravesides will they attend?

Naruto feels a pressure on his shoulder—a hand that belongs to his former sensei—and although only one eye peeks out, it holds emotion that Naruto knows all too well _. Rest for now, we've got a long ways to go._

This is how it started; the four of them against the world. They are reunited once more.

Sasuke was a broken child, filled with hatred and revenge. Naruto was lonely and immature—he did not know what it truly meant to be the Hokage. Sakura was unripe and ignorant to the pain of loss, not knowing the importance of strength. Kakashi was cynical and unbelieving.

Naruto did it, though. He saved Sasuke from his worst enemy— _himself_. He fulfilled his promise of a lifetime, and he made Kakashi believer. These three teenagers with dirty faces and tear-stained cheeks and bloodied clothing would be the next rulers of the land, undoubtedly.

There are footsteps beyond the forest, forcing sound into Team 7's quiet bubble. Sakura pays no mind as she runs her fingers along the inner swell of Sasuke's wrist, checking his pulse. There's so much she needs to do. How is Naruto's eye? Was it damaged? Sasuke's heartrate is low and his skin is too pale. He's lost a lot of blood—they both have.

As Sakura pulls out her blood pills she's ripped away from their proximity. It's a dizzying heave, one that makes her head spin and her stomach lurch. "Wha—"

"Sasuke Uchiha, you are hereby contained for your involvement in the Fourth Great Shinobi War. "

Sakura is suddenly a wildcat, prying their hands off of his raw body like the men were ivy on the side paneling of her apartment. She peels away from her captor. "What are you doing? Get off of him!"

"We're here on behalf of our Lady Hokage. She's asked us to seize him."

Sakura looks up at the three—mere Jōnin whose status was subpar to the godliness that was Naruto and Sasuke now. Did they know the boundaries they were overstepping? Did they know the seriousness of this?

And…

And why would Tsunade consent to such disrespect? She wanted to kick Sasuke while he was down—while he was weakened and injured and practically immobile. How deplorable. It couldn't be.

She opens her mouth to protest, and perhaps degrade and curse, but Sasuke purposely pulls away from her protection. His eyes are inflamed from hits and the repeated use of his kekkei-genkai. In this state, the man is nothing more than the shell of a human who's only able to move because of receding adrenalin and shear willpower.

Sasuke withdrawals, and Sakura advances; this time it is Kakashi's grip that stops her.

"Sakura, do not interfere. They are only acting on orders."

Naruto rants, throwing his numb arm into the air as he belts out obscenities. "These _men_ wouldn't even be here if Sasuke hadn't…"… _hadn't have saved us!_

But his pause causes other thoughts to enter their heads.

 _…if Sasuke had not run away…_

 _…if Sasuke had not joined Orochimaru_ …

Sasuke looks between the three of them with dejection. They were his friends, and they still fought for him. They had brawled for far too long. It was his turn now.

His ebony hair is caught in the breeze and it reveals a purple-rimmed eye.

"I am a rouge ninja." He begins, looking at each of his teammates dead-on. "I've assaulted Kage leaders and attacked their junchuriki. More importantly, I've risked the lives of every one of you—all of my countrymen. I'm at the will of Konoha law."

Sakura watches as Kakashi dips his head low, and to her surprise, Naruto as well. Her fist clenches—she has nowhere to direct her rage but to Sasuke, and it's the last thing he needs or, in her mind, _deserves_. "How is this fair?"

The collar of his top bunches from her grip. "You were poisoned! You weren't acting on your own free will—you were cursed Sasuke—"

"I was in control of myself."

They group forms around them. It seemed that even Naruto couldn't battle for Sasuke's freedom here—there was much to be done, and much to be said, and very little time to do it. Everyone watches in silence, as though everyone awaited Sakura's approval. They would not get it just yet.

"I refuse. They cannot arrest you here—not like this."

She feels Naruto come up beside her and Sakura's steadfastness chips away. Naruto understood the severity and the complexity of the situation. He did not believe Sasuke belonged in a jail cell, but emotions were stretched thin in this battleground. His palm is calloused as it rubs up her sleeveless arm reassuringly. "Let them,"

When had he become so strong, so absolute? Only moments ago Sakura told herself she would be their backbone, and now she leaned on Naruto for support. How typical that was of the petal-puce woman.

The men pull out spell tags and her heart falls into the hollow of her stomach. They're blinding him—he will be exposed to his people under chains and shackles. This was not justified. He was a hero, not a villain. He was…he is…

"He's my patient," She blurts out.

Sasuke cannot see anything now. The fabric that covers his eyes is terrycloth; it's itchy and rough against his raw skin. There's a pressure from the outside that turns his blackened vision into an indigo hue—he's been sealed—he cannot see.

Sakura moves beside him now. He knows it's her, because even in the aftermath of a brutal fight she still smelled unlike any proper ninja—like vanilla and candy. Her footsteps are not silent, and her touch is not fleeting. She holds his bicep.

"He's my patient, and both he and Naruto need _immediate_ medical attention."

There is a back and forth between doctor and warrior until Lady Tsunade herself makes her entrance. The skin around her midsection is pink and new, having been split in half. Her honeyed eyes scan the area with a knowing sweet—she is emitting her dominance.

She does not chide just yet. The Hokage embraces Naruto, pressing him deep into her bosom.

"You're alive, you little brat." Tsunade exhales with relief. As Naruto falls into her vice-like grip, to tired and weak to protest _another_ woman, Kakashi explains the situation. Tsunade looks her student.

Sakura was not the child she had once been three years ago, but her demeanor now negated that. "Who do you think you are, disobeying my direct order?" Her manicured nail points towards her accusingly. "You should be _healing_ your peers, not battling them!"

Sakura knew this, of course. Her booted feet are much more interesting now, because she could not meet her teacher's eyes. In many ways these shoes are like Sasuke. They are scuffed, war-torn, and damaged. Sasuke could be repaired though, and Sakura was the most suited to do it. She took her scolding and waited patiently to speak.

"Both Naruto and Sasuke have lost their dominant arms. I've only just now closed their wounds. I don't know how long they were subject to contamination—infection will soon set it and this is not the proper environment to treat it."

Tsunade scoffs. "Don't you think I know that already?"

"What are you planning then?" Her student replies, looking up so rapidly her hair spreads about. Emerald clashes with cinnamon-sugar irises—master against pupal. "You want to handcuff him, blind him, and display him to our soldiers? He will be proof that we've won the war? He will be proof that we're victorious? Is that it?"

Tsunade, however, did not take kindly to pups that nipped the palm that offered sustenance. "…of course not," Her tired eyes gleam and her painted lips stretch into a smile. "We can't handcuff him if he's only got one arm."

Sakura stamps her foot. This wasn't funny. "Tsunade-sama, I'm being serious. This is appalling and disrespectful and—"

But her teacher is not a masochist. She did not enjoy pain; she did not enjoy seeing her student so riled up. It was true; Sasuke was an enemy that had been defeated. Whatever the reasons were behind his destructive rage, there was no excuse for the countless lives lost and the domino-like collapse of the Shinobi system their ancestors had so diligently erected.

She knew how deeply these ties ran. But her final decision would have to wait until after the tedious arguments with the counsel, and Naruto and Kakashi would have to speak on Sasuke's behalf. That would take days to set up, and there were corpses that needed to be properly buried.

"Sakura, we have wounded here—people who are suffering more than Naruto and Sasuke. We need your help. Kakashi and these ninja," She says, pointing to the two men and one woman that flanked them. "They will accompany your teammates straight to Konoha's hospital. We have bodies to take home."

Sakura looked at Sasuke.

She had always been faithful to her village and her people. She fought battles she didn't believe in, and healed people that did not deserve healing. Her entire life had been by the book: a page-for-page, verbatim play that she acted out and responded to when duty called.

There was always one exception to her resolve, and that exception had always been the onyx-eyed, black-haired Sasuke Uchiha. Sakura had asked him to take her when he abandoned his village. She had begged and pleaded for him. She had gone against the wishes of her teammates and her teacher to take him down, and to save him, too.

This time, deep in her core, Sakura knew it was time for new beginnings. Sasuke was willing to take his punishment because of the actions he orchestrated by his own will, regardless of the curse that manipulated his mindset.

If this was his wish, then so be it.

With one fleeting look at Sasuke and a determined nod to Naruto and Kakashi, Sakura leapt away from her injured family and headed towards the fallen.

* * *

 **Fall in love however you must.**

 **Fall from a kiss, a smile or a brush.**

 **Love is not the absence of pain.**

 **Love is the hope to start again.**

 **-BK**


	2. Chapter 2: Antiseptic

**Chapter 2: Antiseptic**

* * *

Sakura has not seen her parents in a long, long time. Her first stop her home, where her mother and father embrace their child with the resolve to _never let go_. Their bud had blossomed into a magnificent flower.

The hug does not last as long as they would like. Her shower is quick; she has a mission and two very important patients to care for. This was the job of a ninja. There was no time for pleasantries and spoiling. Her food is tasteless and her mind wanders.

The walk to the hospital is long and nostalgic. Her village has triumphed. Every shop is opened to war veterans—they offer treats and hot meals and gentle embraces. There's talk of a festival, but Sakura holds no childlike wonder anymore. She's seen too much.

They will bury the dead today, after all.

All hospitals smelled the same—antiseptic, decayed blood, and a hint of death. Her damp hair is tied into a spiky ponytail and she wears her bleached coat proudly as she bounds down the familiar halls.

Her intentions were not to sidestep Tsunade. Sakura only wanted to make it back to Naruto and Sasuke quickly. Although touching base with the Hokage was normal practice, she hoped her teacher could wait a few days before the proper paperwork was delivered.

The guards let her by without a single glance and she bursts through the door without knocking. Naruto is bandaged in his bed; He is as small and as weak as she's ever seen him in her life. For some reason, this makes him more _human_. Naruto was not invincible.

"Naruto!"

Sakura's arms feel like a straightjacket, wrapping so tightly around Naruto that it's almost as if he'll stop breathing. The tubes and needles that stick out from his skin are jarred from the impact. He's happy for the hug though—he needed the warmth.

"You're finally back, and you bathed first, too. I'm a lucky man!"

This is not the time to evade his flirtations. She takes his bait. "Just for you—I even scrubbed behind my ears."

The laugh share is innocent and pure. It's as though their loved ones did not parish. It's as though Sasuke is not is his own straightjacket—one that is not warm like Sakura. No, he's hidden away in the Konoha Interrogation Unit.

Naruto's laugh is short. Innocence will be rare from this point on.

Today is the day they entomb their comrades. Today, Neji will be placed under upturned earth beside Shikamaru's father and Ino's father and the hundred other lost souls that Naruto _could not save_. The village does not mourn their loss, though. Instead, they will rise from their ashes.

"Are you feeling alright? Let me adjust your IV." Sakura says as she starts to mess with the needle at the top of his left hand.

His only hand.

"Don't bother; they were just about to send someone in to help me dress for the funerals anyways." Sakura is already wearing black. It's a color that Naruto didn't think suited anyone—it's too sad.

"I can help you," She says.

The machines are unhooked and Naruto lets her remove his gown. He's unashamed and she's not embarrassed because they are _not_ lovers and they never would be. Sakura and Sasuke were tied to each other on a level that Naruto could not fully comprehend—it's deeper than the infatuation he'd held, and deeper than the crush it evolved from. He hopes to one day understand that type of longing.

When he is properly dressed, the nurse who was assigned to Naruto walks in. Her lips are bright red and her waterline is smeared in kohl. "Oh, Lady Haruno, I didn't know you were in here! Er—have you dressed Lord Uzumaki?"

It's strange for him to be called a Lord. Years ago he was just a knuckleheaded ninja. Now he was wildly popular among his peers and elders. It was a huge leap, and he wasn't comfortable with the attention just yet—especially being recently…armless.

He shakes his head. There's no reason to be ashamed. If he had to choose between his right arm and Sasuke's freedom, he would choose Sasuke _every time._

"Rumi, your makeup is too loud. Please be mindful of your attire in this wing." Sakura nagged. The nurse's blush is covered quickly with a polite bow. "Naruto's been taken care of, go ahead and tend to your other patients. Where is Sasuke being housed?"

Before Rumi can meet her question with confusion, Naruto stands. His arm brushes the bristles of his golden hair, fluffing them out. "Sasuke isn't…ah…he's not going to be at the funeral. Will you fix my hair in the back? And I think this bandage on my cheek is too loud, can you switch it with a smaller patch?"

Sakura doesn't have much time to ask questions. There are black figures lining the streets and soon they will crowd the memorial. When she's fulfilled all of Naruto's requests, they walk together towards the burial grounds to pay their respects. Seeing her friends would normally be a happy occasion, but the circumstances were awful.

Sakura takes her place beside Ino, offering silent support and a shoulder to lean on, if it was needed. The clouds do not weep and the skies are not dark; it doesn't smell of death or despair. In all, if it were possible to pick the weather on such a grievous day, Sakura thinks she would pick this.

The sun shines brightly above them, taking in the incense that was offered to the deceased. Her skin warms and her tears dry…for now.

They will shed once more, when the funeral has long since ended; when she cannot find Sasuke Uchiha.

* * *

"Ah, Sakura, I'm happy to see you back so soon. I didn't see you at the funeral. Were you with Naruto?" Kakashi asks as he bumps into his student. She's in the hidden wing again, meandering about.

Her answer is half-hearted. "I was by Ino. Naruto wanted to remain a bit longer after everyone left, he said he would like some privacy."

With a detached scan, she eyes the list of residents on her clipboard. Higher-ups had access to all patient records and names and she was no exception. But, even though she's read and re-read the sheet, she cannot seem to find an "Uchiha" anywhere on it.

Perhaps he was being housed separately, or under a heavier lock-and-key. Did he have an alias? "Do you know where Sasuke is? I cannot find his room number anywhere."

Stillness fills the air around them. There's a _beep, beep, beep_ of a heart-monitor from a few rooms down, but other than that, everything is quiet; too quiet. It causes Sakura to look up from her papers.

The clipboard is on her hip now, out of her view so she can pierce Kakashi with inquisitive irises. "Where _is_ Sasuke, Kakashi-sensei?"

"I thought someone would have told you by now."

It's as though her body moves on its own. Her fingers tremble at the same cadence as her lips. "Told me what?"

Again, there's that _silence_. Sakura repeats her question. "Told me _what_ , Kakashi-sensei?"

Kakashi has never been very open. He's always preferred leading someone in the direction of an answer than being forthright.

He sighs and pats down his silver locks. "Perhaps that is a question you should ask Ibiki Moreno."

* * *

 **Your friends will fall and y** **our family will pass,**

 **but there will always be strong bonds that last.**

 **Rejoice** **in the "now", the "will be", the future,**

 **do not live your life in jaded stupor.**

 **-BK**


	3. Chapter 3: Sea-Salted Caramel

**Chapter 3: Sea-Salted Caramel**

* * *

The prison cell in Konoha has a scent that is similar to Orochimaru's hideout. Musty air and stale mildew enter and exit his nostrils as he breathes. It is the only thing he's allowed himself to do. The same blue-gray color fills his vision—this seal keeps Sasuke from using his _Sharingan_ or _Rinnegan_ , and it also keeps him from dreaming of anything but sapphire.

It mattered not—he's never had a favorite or least color, after all.

It is humid and quiet. The sound of Sasuke's former proctor invades his ears; he's synced their breathing pattern together. Every third drip from the leaky faucet beside him parallels is exhale. Breathe in, _drip, drip,_ breathe out, _drip…_

Over and over, this is the repeat Sasuke listens to so he doesn't think of his past transgressions. In this unbearable stillness, the only thing to do is reminisce. Sasuke has no room for happy thoughts when he is filled with so much bad.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?"

Sasuke turns his head sharply because Sakura's voice ruins his concentration. Her footsteps are not silent and sure—she's a brash, hell-bent woman. "Who ordered this—who said this was okay?"

"Miss Haruno," Ibiki calls out as she bursts through the door. "You're not supposed to be in here."

It seems even he could not halt her rampage. "Like I care!"

The sound of fabric against fabric dulls the dripping. She's scuffling and flailing around, trying her best to make it into Sasuke's prison. She had always been confrontational and demanding, but to go head-on against a man that tortured prisoners for _fun_ was…just a bit too much. Everything about Sakura was _just a bit too much._

He calls to her. "Sakura,"

"I'm coming, Sasuke." She answers.

But…he didn't want her to come.

His head lifts when the doors of his cage open and her footsteps slap the cement as she makes her way to his side. He does not know how to mentally prepare for this—he has no time.

Sakura used to touch him. She would throw her arms around his shoulders when she was scared or happy. He remembers her shrill voice as she shrieked his name.

But the Sakura he used to know did not exist anymore.

That long-haired, narcissistic child had evolved into one of the best medical ninjas in the entire nation. She would not hug him because she was afraid or excited anymore. Her caresses have become rare, and her voice had softened.

"Why on earth would anyone okay this?" She asks him as her body lowers to his side.

He feels the buckles of his jacket are being tampered with, so he forcefully pulls away. "Don't."

He chose this punishment, after all.

Her voice is not angry anymore. Sakura sounds like a mother, and it's been a long time since he's heard such a tone. "Sasuke, may I please examine you?"

"He's refused any medical attention." Ibiki says from the opposite side of the bars. "He does not want to eat, he does not want to sleep, and he does not want to talk."

Sakura barks back; tepid to scalding. "Maybe he would talk and eat if you treated him with respect! Why would you put him in this caveman contraption! These restrains should be banned."

"He insisted," The man replies with a snap.

Sasuke feels cool hands on his cheeks—her minty chakra starts to flow through the coverings of his seal and directly to his overused kekkei-genkai. He jerks away from her touch, ignoring the pleasure. "I said don't."

There is a pressure on his chest and the decaying smell of the enclosure he's been locked in suddenly smells of sea-salted caramel and vanilla sugar. The change in scent is almost headache inducing—Sasuke's never been one to enjoy sweets. Although he cannot see her hair, the loose tendrils tickle his chin as she leans fully into him. Maybe if he was not layered in canvas he would feel the wetness of her tears. "You don't deserve this, Sasuke. Why would you let them do this to you?"

The Uchiha have always dealt in justice. There are ebbs and flows to the world—without good, there could be no evil, and without chaos there could be no peace. Sasuke knew of this balance and how impartiality would break the system of the shinobi his peers so strongly protected. "I _do_ deserve this."

Sakura's head raises and her hands are curled within the cloth of his barrier. His shoulder hurts excruciatingly, and the medic sees his eyebrows twitch in response to the pain. "Why do you think you think this is warranted?" She asks.

Where should he begin? He abandoned his village to join an s-class criminal—the same man that had killed the active Hokage and countless other shinobi and civilians. Perhaps he'd eaten next to those men, and walked the same streets as them.

Sasuke knew of Orochimaru's wickedness and experiments and illicit behaviors. Stupidly, the man thought he would become immune to his teachers evil if he did not kill when asked—if he followed his own path. But after Itachi's death and the truth of his clan came out, it did not matter who lived and who died. He did not care.

Sasuke had tried to kill his teammates—Naruto and Kakashi and Jugo and Karin and Suigetsu and even Sakura, who dug her nails into his shirt and looked up at the mask formed firmly over his eyes. She was not the girl he left behind, certainly. But…was she just as pure?

"It's not a matter of opinion. I belong in here—my value as a ninja is not greater than anyone else's."

Her head falls against his chest once more. Again, he breaks her and again, she cries. There's a different ache within him now—it's his heart. He does not want her to cry over him anymore. Sasuke cannot think of a reassuring string of words. He lets his head fall as whispers into the shell of her ear—this will be their secret. "It is only for a year, Sakura."

Sakura blushes and turns away. If this was his choice, then _fine_ —so be it. He may have asked for this penalty on his own accord, but he would not be able to live without proper nutrition and a few good rounds of healing. Sasuke would not last one week in this state. "Why do you want to be bound, though? Why are your eyes sealed?"

"Naruto is the only one that can defeat me. When he is healed, I won't need to be restrained." Sasuke did not want to be let free until Naruto could stop him, if need be.

In this short time Sasuke has thought of many things.

The ties he held to Naruto and Kakashi and Sakura were all strong, and he wondered if he would fall victim to the Curse of Hatred if he were to lose these precious people once more. Once the veil of evil had been lifted, only love was left. And Sasuke truly loved them all. They had taken the place of his family—he couldn't lose them. He feared their deaths and his actions forthwith.

"Won't you at least eat? You'll wither away if you keep this up."

His chin lifts and he hopes he's at least turned in her direction. A half-smile forms on his lips. "You used to not argue with me."

There's an odd happiness that bubbles within her. Sasuke remembered her from the past, and the thought made her giddy. She chuckles _._ "I agreed with you back when you were never wrong. I'm a woman now, anyways. I've matured, can't you tell?"

He snorts.

She's _always_ been the most mature. It was true that she was unaccustomed to the heartbreak of the world around her as a twelve-year-old—but that did not mean she was immature. No prepubescent should know of the pain and torture both he and Naruto went though. She's been a _woman_ for a very long time in Sasuke's eyes.

"Why are you laughing? I'm not making jokes. Geez, you and Naruto are so…" She trails off, walking to the end of his cell. The door creaks open and she speaks to Ibiki now.

"I'll prepare all of Sasuke's meals, okay? I'll do all of his healing, I'll tend to all of his needs. Don't send any other nurses out here." Sakura speaks rapidly as she scribbles out her phone number on a piece of the newspaper on the desk Ibiki sat by. "Call me if he acts up…I'll straighten him out."

Her footsteps ricochet around the room, and finally Sasuke can match his breathing to the _drip, drip, drip._ Peacefulness surrounds his mind, ridding itself from the rage of Sakura Haruno's untamed storm.

 _Drip…_

"That's some _spitfire_ gal you've got there, kid. She sure is a keeper."

 _Drip, drip…_

He smirks.

* * *

 **A girl can be dainty and demure,**

 **it's perfectly acceptable to be very pure.**

 **A girl can also be harsh and aggressive,**

 **do not define us by patterned oppresses.**

 **-BK**


	4. Chapter 4: Frosting

**Chapter 4: Frosting**

* * *

"I brought you tomatoes."

She's later than usual, and she smells of frosting and cake batter. The seventeen-year-old is on her second visit to his cell, holding a woven basket of dark red fruit. "They're healthy and they aren't sweet, so I figured you'd like them."

He did. He despised confectioneries.

Sakura Haruno had developed a routine. She'd always thought doing the same thing daily would force people into ruts of depression and boredom. But her repetitive tasks seemed to raise her spirits instead of drop them—every day she would bring Sasuke his lunch and his dinner, and every other day she would heal his wounds.

He had been damaged badly. Although she would never say it aloud, his injuries almost doubled to that of Naruto's. Still, even if Naruto had landed more hits, Sasuke's throttles had caused more trauma. Maybe, in some way, this put them on the same platform. Sakura did not want to know Sasuke's thoughts on that, however. The two had always been overly confrontational.

"How is your shoulder?" She asks. The rotator cuff on his left arm had been torn painfully. The tissues connecting muscle to bone around the joint were severely damaged. Keeping his body bound in his jacket rid Sasuke of most of the pain, but his nights were unbearable and sleepless.

"I don't know."

Although he cannot see it, Sasuke knows her green eyes roll dramatically. He wonders—what type of green are they now? When they were children her irises resembled two bright emeralds. Has war and death dulled her colors? He wanted to know what she looked like more and more.

"Eat this and we'll do some therapy."

Her fingers unravel his jacket so he can hold his meal. Sasuke vowed to keep his visual prowess sheathed, but was more lenient with the swath that halted his normal movements. The white covering pools around his feet and he sits once more, letting his teeth sink into the thin skin of a ripened tomato.

Sakura works his left shoulder as he chews. He was uncomfortable with her touch at first, because his arm was not there and the feel of it was off-putting. Sakura is a medic, though, and a good one at that. She is accommodating and sure. She makes him feel safe—normal.

As she goes through the range of motion exercises her palms glow. It wards of most of the discomfort. "I think I will have to surgically repair this tendon."

"Ah,"

"I may be able to do an arthroscopic operation using an endoscope. It's less invasive. What do you think?"

Sasuke did not know the meaning of most of her words. "I'll trust whatever decision you make."

Sakura pauses.

It has been two weeks, and she has made very little progress with Sasuke. At first it was quiet and awkward. He did not like to be helped, and did not like to be stretched, and did not like her hands on his body as she checked for infections and inner distress. There was always a silence around them.

Yesterday was the first day she touched him without his eyebrows twitching. And today, for the first time in her life, Sasuke said he trusted her with something.

She is no longer a juvenile adolescent. She will not scream into her pillow when she gets home, and she won't slide down her bedroom door and repeat his words internally. She will offer him gratitude.

Her hands start back up again and she smiles, even though he cannot see it. "I appreciate that, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke has not ever been so weak. Perhaps he chose this solitude because openly healing in a room with nurses and people he did not know terrified him. Sakura was the best of the best, and he did not even have to snuff out his pride to get her to heal him. She'd made the decision herself.

In her presence, he did not have pride or superiority. He was completely at her will.

As a young girl she'd fallen in love with what she thought was Sasuke. Her image of him had been an unconquerable God—he was the boy that no one could beat. That assumption had been shattered quickly on their first mission to The Land of Waves. Sakura found out that Sasuke could really, really die. There were so many senbon embedded in his flesh, and even now as a trained doctor, Sakura isn't quite sure how he had survived.

Maybe it was because he was needed for bigger and better things. He needed to become a bigger and better person.

Whatever it was, Sasuke was _here_. He was living and breathing under Sakura's fingertips, and she thanked whichever God it was that kept him alive. She wanted to get to know the true Sasuke—the man that was not consumed with hatred.

They did not talk about the future or the past.

Sakura did not want to know what he planned to do once his probation was let up and she did not want to know of his sins. She visited Naruto frequently, but kept Sasuke's condition secret. Only Tsunade and Ibiki knew of her visits. It was only fair, she thought, since Kakashi and Naruto always hid so much from her. She felt closer to Sasuke knowing that they shared their own veiled relationship.

The weeks turn into months and she stares at Sasuke's motionless body now on her operating table. Shizune assists with the surgery and they expertly repair his damaged tissue. The arm Tsunade is working on has a long ways to go—Hashirama's cells are delicate, and Naruto's hand is being developed first. They expertly mend the tendon of his left shoulder.

It is the middle of the night when they finally finish, and Sakura waits for the sedatives to wear off as Shizune makes her exit. The moonlight fills the room and all of the lights are off. All Sasuke has to do is awaken. Until then, Sakura stares helplessly at his face as his lips inhale life-sustaining breaths.

She's helpless because she's so in love.

Sasuke's jaw is more angled now. It didn't curve delicately like the boy she crushed on all those years ago. Nothing about him was delicate now. His lashes are so long that they almost touch his cheeks, leaving long shadows that catch the moons rays. It's been a while since she's seen them.

Slowly she brushes away his bangs, letting her nails smooth along the perspired surface of his forehead.

He opens one eye, like he'd never been unconscious at all. It's a dark purple and rimmed—absolutely stunning against porcelain flesh. "You didn't kill me, I presume."

"Did you think I would?" Sakura boos, letting her fingertips tiptoe down the bridge of his nose to the top of his mouth.

Sakura's touches have not yet been this delicate. He wondered if she'd truly changed into a wildebeest after all. These days she was a dominant and absolute dictator, pushing and stretching his sore muscles as she worked him through his physical therapy and chided his daily food intake.

But as the pads of her fingers sweep around the side of his lips, Sasuke understands that the old Sakura is still in there.

And she's just as beautiful as ever.

"You're touching me."

 _Oh god, I didn't even notice_! "I'm sorry. I thought I could get away with it."

At least she was honest. "I didn't say you had to stop."

Her eyes blink and Sasuke is drawn to them. They aren't the same color as in her youth after all. Instead, they are filled with flecks of yellow and lime—more chartreuse than forest green. The way she blushes is the same though. The heat spreads across her upper cheeks like a wildfire. She catches a velvety bottom lip between her upper and lower teeth.

"Ah, right. Well, you should be able to move within the next few minutes. The surgery seems successful. I'm going to have to monitor your progress more closely, however. You shouldn't move your arm at all. If you're still planning to use that straightjacket, it works out well. …"

Sasuke listens to her monologue. She's yapping a thousand words per minute it seems, and he's never known anyone who could talk so quickly and clearly. Killer B would be impressed, if only she rhymed.

As she goes through the basic care instructions, Sasuke wonders if she's able to talk like this to just anyone. This woman is passionate about her beliefs and job. She's worked her way up to the top with shear willpower—it had nothing to do with destiny or her clan.

"I'm rambling, aren't I? Oh geez, I'm sorry."

Does she apologize because other people reprimand her? Does she stop speaking because she's been told to shut up before? When she talks about things she's enthusiastic about, her eyes darken, and they turn into that deep earthy green he remembers them always being.

He thinks that it could be his favorite color.

* * *

 **You will be loved, one day, it's true.**

 **By your pet, by your darling, by a friendship that's new.**

 **But first let me tell you of what you must do,**

 **before your love can follow through.**

 **Accept your flaws and your scars and your doubts,**

 **know what you can and cannot do without.**

 **Smile at your reflection, don't believe the lies,**

 **there is pure admiration behind those eyes.**

 **-BK**


	5. Chapter 5: Thunderstorms

**Chapter 5: Thunderstorms**

* * *

It had been an entire half year before Sakura found the courage to kiss him.

It was nothing like Ino told her it would be. A firework show did not go off in the back of her head—her stomach did not turn into mush and her fingers didn't curl and her foot certainly didn't lift upwards. If Sakura was honest, it was a big, embarrassing mess.

Sasuke had just arrived back to his cell. He took his daily shower a little later than usual, and Sakura had already been waiting for him when he walked in. He was almost completely cured now—his skin was tanned and he was at a good weight and…and…

He didn't need her anymore.

Sakura watched him eat his meal in silence. He was perfect at many things—elegant and punctual with light footfalls and the coyness of a snake. But the man ate like Naruto. It didn't matter how the meal tasted as long as it went down.

"I tried really hard on that, you know." She says.

Sasuke turns his head to the side like a curious puppy. "I thought it was from the cafeteria."

Sakura threw an abandoned chopstick at him his head with a laugh. Ibiki allowed them their privacy in moments like this. He was the only one Tsunade entrusted with this secret, and in a way, Sakura and he were on opposing shifts.

"I think I'll have them write that on your tombstone jerk. Sasuke Uchiha's famous last words. They'll lower you into your grave and say, " _Man, that guy really deserved it, the stupid idiot_."."

"I'd rather be cremated." He responds with a shrug.

"I could use you as an ingredient that way. Sasuke soufflé," she replies morbidly.

It was rare to find someone that didn't find her humor disturbing. He would let her speak for hours about things he didn't understand—things that…grossed him out. Sasuke would ask her to slow down, to explain, and to teach him what her words meant. She could talk about blood and guts while they ate, and she could tell him her innermost thoughts without getting a snarky glare.

When she ties the buckles of his jacket and securely props his severed limb, she looks up. She shouldn't have, because with his mask in place there was nothing to see but a strongly pronounced nose and perfectly rounded lips.

His tongue darts out from between them before he speaks. "You're being strange today. You hesitate."

She was, and she did. Sakura savored each and every touch, because Sasuke didn't need her any longer. She was of no use to him. "You're better now."

"That upsets you?"

"I won't see you anymore for a while." Her voice is breathless and brittle—completely opposite from the roughness of before. With her fingers tangled within his sheath and her body inches from him, all Sakura can think about are his beige lips.

He exhales and it's a hot fan across her face—as if the fire of his jutsu burned continuously in the pit of his chest and steamed from his nostrils like a dragon.

 _Just one kiss_. She says to herself. She wants to believe this short-lived relationship was more than doting nurse and an injured patient.

Before Sakura knows what she is doing, she leans upwards on her tiptoes. Her lips pucker and press into his—they are unmoving, but not deflecting.

The pressure is too hard and her teeth bump into his tender flesh. The skin opens because of the force. Sakura's first kiss concludes with a busted lip and an embarrassing explanation. "Oh no, Sasuke-kun, I'm so sorry!"

Even in the lowest point of her life, Sakura never imagined forcing herself upon him. Her body lowers and she shakes her head, preparing for a better apology. "I shouldn't have done that. It was inappropriate. I just…I don't…"

Her mouth rambles, and for the first time, Sasuke doesn't care to hear her dialogue. "That was awful."

It's like a boulder has been thrown across her shoulders. _Oh god…_ "I know. Don't tell anyone. I promise it will never happen again. I'm so sorry Sasuke-kun."

She turns to leave. It is funny how their last moments together always ended in apology. But as her hand presses against the cold metal of his prison, Sasuke calls out to her.

"You're just going to give up?"

The room is humid and the air is stale. Her heart rings within her ears. "W…what do…what should I do?"

"You're not going to get better if you don't practice."

Sakura has never been so red. The pink undertones of her skin turn crimson as she rubs the gooseflesh from off of her arms. Slowly, tentatively, Sakura makes her way back into his space. He smells of thunderstorms and lightening, even though it's been months since sunlight and pure oxygen have caressed his body.

His head is parallel to her chest now that he is sitting.

"What should I do?" Though her voice is more confident, she is a tattered mess within.

Sasuke lifts his chin. "Try again,"

And their second kiss is much, much better.

He guides her carefully as she encloses, making sure she doesn't slam into him like before. It feels as though a petal has landed on his mouth—soft, delicate, gentle. The woman tastes as sweet as she smells, and although Sasuke has never cared for sugar, he decides that she will be the exception.

She was always his exception.

They melt into each other like ice cream on summer days. She is cold cream on sunburnt lips. They pull away from one another slowly, letting their skin separate, and then search each other out once more. They have never felt such a rush.

Sakura has a new reason to visit him now, one that does not involve her chakra. She practices her kisses on him, with his eyes sealed and his arms bound. They are still teenagers. They have missed out on sneaking romances and embraces in the dead of night.

Together they make up for lost time—it is guiltless and lust-free and perfectly pure. Between peppered pecks Sakura tells Sasuke of what he's missed. She explains her training with Tsunade and all of the knowledge she's accumulated, who's been with whom, little gossips mixed important details.

Before long, spring comes once more.

Naruto's arm is attached so Sasuke decides that it's time for him to leave. There are many things he must do. Kakashi, the new Hokage, dismisses his student from captivity after the man signs his signature on a stack of thick paper.

The streets do not deny his footsteps, but his body rejects the cobblestone. This is the village that his clansmen used to walk through, and he is the last left. He will need time understand his feelings, and he cannot do it here. These roads are stained with the blood of his people.

He wears a cloak Kakashi gave to him, and all that he owns is tucked into a small holster at his hip. It is time for goodbyes.

"Well, I'll be honest with you. Under normal circumstances, you'd be imprisoned for life. The only reason you've been pardoned is because of your assistance in undoing the Mugen-Tsukuyomi Jutsu." Kakashi explains. "Try not to forget that all of this is thanks to Naruto. I mean, he is the hero of this war and well…I did put in a few comments as the Sixth Hokage. So take it easy and don't go crazy on me again. It'll be my head they'll take this time."

Sasuke looks at Sakura when he apologies to him. "Yeah…sorry,"

Her crestfallen expression matches the one she sent him four years before.

"You're leaving already? Tsunade-sama's just about to complete your prosthetic hand from Hashirama-sama's cells…" She's trying all of her excuses. What can she say to make him stay? Why was he leaving like this? Did she mean nothing to him?

"I…" he begins, staring into her speckled eyes. "I need to see it for myself. How the world looks. All those things I've overlooked, I have a feeling I'd be able to seem them better now. If I miss this chance, I don't think another will come."

 _Don't you know?_ He tells her silently. _I've overlooked you, too, and now that you have healed me, there are many things I need to re-see without an overlay of darkness._

"Plus, there are a few things that have been bothering me."

 _I cannot stay in this village when my family's screams haunt me so. Not yet._

Her eyes dip down and that familiar heated blush spreads across her face. She understands, but the hurt is still there. "What…if I told you…that I would like to come, too?"

Their secret is still a secret. Their late night conversations and soft kisses and sweet embraces are unknown to the Hokage that stands by their side. She still has to ask her embarrassing question, though. She would never forgive herself if she didn't. Maybe this time, Sasuke will want a companion.

M...ah-hem…maybe this time, Sasuke will want a lover.

She peeks up.

He does not look at her now, and instead explains the reasons behind his departure. "It is my road to redemption. You have nothing to do with my sins."

He drove a stick between their closeness with that one little phrase. Sakura thought that, after all that transpired between them, he would see her as more. _So much for lover, you big idiot!_ "Nothing to do…you say…"

There's a brush of fabric and a movement in front of her. As she looks up, Sasuke starts to press his finger to the forehead she hated so much as a child—to the forehead that induced teasing and cackles.

He taps once, lingeringly, and smiles _only to her_. "I'll see you soon."

It is a promise. He metaphorically replaces the stick pressed between them with a thick, red thread, because it would take more than distance to break their bonds. They were truly connected.

With eyes only for Sakura, Sasuke winks, causing every strand of hair on her body to stand at attention. "Thank you."

This time, it is not an apology that separates them. They will never be separated again.

In the heat of the day, with the sunshine bright and her heart firing off the fireworks Ino told her about, Sakura watches her love tread towards the mountains and valleys beyond.

She has experienced Sasuke's ultimate expression of love. And truly, it was better than _any_ silly kiss.

* * *

 **A contact so brief, lip upon lip,**

 **such a small brush makes heartbeats skip.**

 **Is there anything better than a true loves kiss?**

 **Take me, darling, into your abyss.**

 **And when we are old and shriveled and pale,**

 **will your caress still make me sail?**

 **"There's something better than hand against flesh."**

 **You'll know it, my love, when your souls enmesh.**

 **-BK**


End file.
